Plodding through the rain like a sponge after the fact, I make my way home all the while dreaming of a hot meal and a warm bed.
The sky is dark and overcast and since my glasses are streaked with water I can barely make out the sidewalk in front of me.
The thunder claps above my head and somewhere inside me a child chimes in with “rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.”
Just then I see something in the distance; a strip of neon green light that is moving gradually towards me. It comes closer and I can just barely make out my wife’s figure approaching.
“Honey, is that you?”
“No, it’s Darth Vader.”
Her humor is one of the many reasons I married her.
“Yes it’s me, and I brought you your rain coat, a thermos of hot tea, and an invitation to share some space with me under the umbrella as we walk home and sing in the rain.”
Now who said rain isn’t romantic?